Going Home in the Dark

by Dean Koontz

Nerds were nerds because they were very intelligent, but we must also understand that, in spite of their intelligence, they were willing to believe in an array of the most fantastic things because they didn’t much believe in themselves. A void will always be filled.

In these circumstances, remembering the first two films made sense, but why the third should come to mind was inexplicable, although in addition to being much beloved by general audiences of successive generations, Mr. Dreyfuss had always been a particular favorite of nerds.

Ernie needed to write new music; in some dreams Garth Brooks taught him how, but in other dreams it was Johnny Cash.

that he should draw them,

He also dreamed someone was after him, a person who frequently had no head, but when the guy did have a head, he had tentacles instead of arms; the only way to avoid this creature was to keep on the move—city to city, state to state, country to country.

sapphire-blue silk robe,

Britta Hernishen turned her attention to Rebecca.

But please tell me this sorry pile of human debris”—he indicated the reverend—“isn’t Ernie’s father.”

Ignoring him, Britta tapped the venom in her heart to respond to Rebecca. “You are a naive little girl who has foolishly gone to war with a power greater than you can comprehend.”

“Please tell me Larry isn’t Ernie’s father.”

killed Ernie’s father. I was not caught and never will be.”

“It wasn’t me,” Pastor Larry said. “I’m not the boy’s father. My affair with Britta started long after Ernest was born. And it’s the best sex of my life. Her lust is—” “No!” Bobby commanded just as Spencer shouted, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

if you can imagine such a thing. He returned when Ernest was three years old and expected to be in my son’s life. He learned otherwise.”

“I am saner than any of you. I have been wise enough to align myself with Beta.” “Praise Beta,” said Pastor Larry. Britta smiled. “You will all die here shortly. Beta will see to that.” “Praise Beta,” Larry repeated.

By comparison to our fungus in Maple Grove, the Armillaria in Oregon is pindling.” “Pindling?” Bobby asked.

Our fungus is of a species never found anywhere but here. It has not been properly named—they simply call it Alpha—and its existence has not been revealed to any scientists except those who are employed by the Keppelwhite Institute.

pindling

“All this from an 1891 patent on the hinge,” Bobby marveled. “Does a patent last forever?” “That one does,” Britta said. “In 1920, Senator Guenther Ohlendorf and Congressman Gottfried Himmelfurter—affectionately known to their constituents as ‘Gunny’ and ‘Frank’—shepherded through the legislature a bill making that patent eternal and expanding it to include the piano hinge and the whisk broom.”

“Alpha has a brain.” “Whose brain?” Spencer asked. “Its own brain, of course. Keppelwhite scientists estimate that of its sixty thousand tons, its brain accounts for two point five tons.”

“Is what I heard correct—that your brother died earlier today of toe fungus?”

had thoroughly infected him. Only when he was paralyzed head to foot and unable to speak, only when he realized he had no hope of a cure, only then did it slowly collapse his lungs and suffocate him.”

In a novel of deep mystery and strangeness, informational conversations between the good guys and the bad guys nearly always come near the end of the story. They must be written in such a way that they don’t bring the narrative to a stop, have entertainment value of their own, and avoid just shoveling revelations at the reader.

(as with Britta’s lustful nature),

maintaining an atmosphere of immin...

where no one is paying to ...

our desire to know how the hell it all ends be...

thrusting us on toward the terror, violence, and destruction that we all enjoy so much. Let’s see if this works:

“Another intelligent fungus,” said Britta. Pastor Larry said, “Praise Beta.” “It’s only nine thousand years old,” Britta continued, “not eleven like Alpha. It weighs about forty-eight thousand tons,

Alpha is the evil one. Beta wants to eradicate ninety percent of humankind to save the Earth. It loves the planet. So do Larry and I. Genocide is noble in the right cause.”

I do not know how Alpha puts people in suspended animation or how it reads their memories.

Rebecca said, “You are very bad people.” “You deserve each other,” Bobby said. Spencer said, “We’ll show ourselves out,” which they did.

At the end of our days in this world, each of us goes home in the dark, to what we cannot know. The prospect of that journey is fearsome, but if we have loved and been loved, we do not go alone. We go with the memory of light and those who shared it with us, and if our hope is not misplaced, we go from light into light. See, no monsters.